2008: It Still Bugs Me It's No Longer Green
For those of you who were not reading
The 'San Francisco Chronicle' back when
The sports section was printed
On green newsprint
- - - you may not see the loss as I do
They throw us old readers a bone
They still call it 'The Sporting Green'
Sometimes printing the heading in green
onn white newsprint - BFD
- - - if you know what I mean
They said the cost of green newsprint
Had gotten too high
So had the ballplayers' salaries
But they weren't all replaced with white rookies
- - - if ya know what I mean
Every morning Mon. to Sat. - - - there it was
Green and ready to be
Pulled out from the other sections
I might look at later
Regardless of how big the paper was
How they folded it
I could always put my hands on
Last night's final scores and today's schedules
It tucked neatly into my back pocket
So on my first break
I could read about
Some of the other games
You could tell who in the shop
Played the ponies
Their attention was on
Yesterday's results and payouts
Constantly checking and rechecking
Before it was time
To turn in their betting slips to Mary-the-Book
On the loading dock
No live racing on your iPhone
Not even Watch-and-Wager
At the fairgrounds back then
To get your bets down
You had write them down
Hand the slips to Mary-the-Book and wait
You knew the guys who had other bookies
You'd find them in the phone booth calling their's in
That's another thing I'm not happy about
Seeing gone - - - phone booths made calls private
Close the door you could cuss cry call your girlfriend
No one - - - not even your wife had to know
Now I have to search all through the 'Chron'
To find Sports - It's is 'wrapped around'
Want-ads Business Style or some other crap
They say that saves money too
Talk about not saving something
Bay Meadows is gone
Had it's last horse race
Gonna be condos business parks and
Apartments with the latest designs above retail
High density communal living
You can bet somebody's go'na make a buck
Environmentally green unlike how they now view horse shit
- - - if you know what I mean
Nature's noblest beast
Along with bovines and their gas
Are no longer considered
Environmentally friendly
We now live with computer wagering
Attendance at tracks is down
Mary is out of a job
Circulation at the paper is down too
- - - you may not sense the loss
It's like your seventy percent
Partially clogged artery
It's still functioning right now but wait
'Til the day it hits ya
- - - if ya know what I mean
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Monroe Louisiana
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
So green, green
Wet-luscious green and alive
So green after the rain
So bright green and clean
Just passing through
On my way to tomorrow
But so green today and yesterday
It was on that stranger's green, green farm
And I didn't stay long
And I didn't expect someone
To fire that shotgun right next to me
The barrel pointed out the front door
Into that green, green world beyond.
There were hot springs
On the green, green farm
In green, green Monroe Louisiana
Back in 1973.
poem by M.L. Squier
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A Short Leap (you would think for a mature audience)
Summer of 1966 I was
Just out of high school
Newspaper web press apprentice
For the San Francisco Chronicle
Working one night I overheard
Several journeymen
Talking about
If they could
Get up enough money
Get the bets up high enough
Buy him a couple of drinks
See if he really could do it
They wanted to talk
This other jouneyman into
Proving what
He'd been bragging about
Up until this point
It had only been a rumor
No one had seen him do it
No one believed it could be done
The proper amount of cash
Was quickly raised
Even guys from the third floor
Newsroom white shirts and ties got involved
They put in their share of money
Once the word got around
Posted their bets
I put up my two bucks
We gathered in the basement
Where the one-ton rolls
Of blank newsprint are hoisted
Like fat spindles
Spinning
At a maximum speed
Of thirty-thousand
Continuous copies an hour
When the audience had gathered
The lights in the basement were turned off
Only for a moment
So we could all see the electricity
This journeyman's claim to fame
So he had bragged was
He could put one hand
On a spinning newsprint roll
Build up enough static electricity
To be able at the proper moment
To reach into his pants
With his other hand and
Get an arc of electricity to leap
From the frame
Of the metal press
To the tip of his dick
I was too far back in the crowd
To be an actual eyewitness
It still cost me two bucks
I bet he couldn't do it
Some said it was a trick
He must have had a screwdriver
Or a piece of metal
In his pocket
Some swore it was the real thing
They saw the flash of light
The arc leapt - - - that's tall that counted
There was a little arguing over the bets
He ending up collecting his share of the money
Couldn't be convinced
To do it again for double or nothing
Once was more than enough for me too
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Living in Bowling Green (Ghazal)
Excuse me, but my favorite color isn’t green
Even though I live in the city of Bowling Green.
In its history the people played such lively games.
On many sunny days their fun was bowling on the Green.
In his boyhood here there lived a man named Duncan Hines.
One day you might find his colored cakes in Irish green.
Oh yes, this city is the home of the car Corvette.
If it pleases you, you can own one painted blue green.
The school my son attended here was Bowling Green High.
His closest friend in French class was Emily Green.
About once a week I visit our Bowling Green Mall.
There you can plainly see its signs printed all in green.
With pollution and economy the way they are,
I am happy to see the city still going green.
- October 3,2009
Published online Dec.21,2009 by The Ghazal Page in the Color Radif Challenge Issue. Go to: http: //www.ghazalpage.net/
poem by Ben Gieske
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Green, Green, and More Green
There is green everywhere,
even in peoples' hair.Some
on hands, some on shirts.
There is green everywhere!
Green, green, and more green.
I think I'm going crazy over green.
If you don't wear green you get pinched,
then you'll start to itch.
So many people are obsessed with green.
Green Spring, green air.Green feet, green wheat, green meat.
Green isn't very neat!
poem by Autumn Howard
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The Rim Of Green
Green panties, green roses
green tits, green milk.
Green moon, posies in green.
green eyes, green full lips
green face, cheese, green..
Green around the rim,
green limes can but erupt...?
poem by Is It Poetry
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Show some care
I witness.....
with my own naked eyes
the battle between life and death
like the fish along the shore
barely able to breathe
begging for life
struggling to live
man.....please......
leave the nature alone
let the green green forest grow
let the green green grass grow
let ones live
with dignity now and forever.
Green, green and green
I want a holiday with a scene
Of green, green and green
A summer of green trees
A landscape of green grass
A view full of green vegetables
The colour green
Is a beauty that must be seen!
From a moving vehicles screen
And while we hold onto those machines
That deprives us of the colour green
Remember they provide us vaccines
As well as help the air to be clean
So for green, green and green
I will travel continents across and in-between
And also to any place that I have never been
I will make it routine
Just to see green, green and green
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Out of the Blue A Patch of Green
-****Rousseau alleged to have used
a pallette of a hundred and some-odd
different greens
in one painting********
-------------------------
There was an empty table
Next to mine
She walked by dressed in green
Holding her coffee she took a spare chair
Then sat down her back to me
She got my attention
My guess was
She was not
Encouraging nor
Expecting company
After the green hit me
Came the pleasent smell
Over the roasting coffee
It was like in the cartoons
When the drawing of the scent
Comes under the guy's nose
Lifts him off his seat
He floats acrosss the room
Led by his nose
By the visable wafts
Who knows what scent it was
I suppose there are some
Who can tell and know its name
All I knew
It was pulling on me
Back to the green in the chair
Darker green at the seams
Slacks lighter green
Leather jacket and
Shoes both different green
Tail of a sweater
Below back of the jacket
Damn another darker green
I wish I had names
for all these greens
Ankles are barely showing
A light tan do they still call it hose
A beige I guess
Probably has a better
Brand name I also don't know
I'm writing this down
As fast as I can
I was working on other stuff
But this is too good to forget
Living in the moment observing
I was thinking
This green is going
To be gone soon
I'm almost out of writing paper
To describe anything more
My coffee's getting cold
What's she here for
To be seen
To just drink coffee
Pass the time until
I look up the green is gone
All I'm left with is
A cold cup of coffee
And this
For you to read
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Looking Back At The Greens
i too look back at those green things
from the point of view of my
green thumb
a vegetable garden without an aphid on a leaf
a row of roses, lush green leaves
and red blooms
some petals falling due to the
wind
a line of green mint trees along the path
leading to the highway
sounds of motors threatening what green there is
i come back and settle on this patch
of green meadows
and grass and gray shade
my own shadow cast
on the huge gabi leaf.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Lavender And Green
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With bells about your feet,
And music in your step,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With sunshine in your eyes,
And springtime in your hair,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With softness in your words,
And healing in your touch,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green?
With your name upon my lips,
And delight within your kiss,
When you come to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
In dreams at midnight’s rest,
Or afternoon’s recline?
Come then to me in lavender and green.
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
At the setting of the sun,
When my days are nearly run?
Still come to me in lavender and green?
Will you come to me in lavender and green,
If I wait at heaven’s door,
As I waited once before,
While you walked to organ’s tune,
On a summer’s afternoon.
Now dressed in springtime hues?
My love, companion, muse,
A vision still I see,
Dressed in lavender and green.
poem by Greg Davidson
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How Green
How green is your valley
How lush is your path to your garden of love
Is it overshadowed by the cross of persecution
How green is your memory
Is it poverty and ruin choked with weeds of despair
Is it blossoms of peace and pleasures
Beyond which there is none to compare
How green is your table
Is it filled with delights of wicked consumption
Is it dangled on meat from the hook in your lair
From that insidious malicious sinister dare
Money
How green
How green
How green
How green is your tomorrow
How green is your eternity
How green
Or is it black and white
poem by Gary Revel
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Green Bananas
Does anyone eat green bananas?
then why have them in the stores?
By the time you think of eating one ripe!
they're full of fruit flies, in the hundreds or maybe more!
My husband loves green bananas
he says, cause they're solid and much more flavorful.
I think they taste kind of green and bitter
with every green and bitter mouthful!
I wonder if monkeys eat them green?
Or do they also wait until they're ripe?
Just peeling them when they're green
leaves those long stringy things of white!
I've taken to freezing mine now
in plastic bags, for my daily protien shakes!
Now I don't have to worry about the ones that turn black!
From the green ones that I wouldn't take!
poem by Linda Winchell
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GREEN, A Litany
green in the midst of drab desolation
green ‘til the tide in the street overflows
green that preserves green's green reputation
green behind curtains, like cellist & bow
green on occasions no green is permissible
green by inversion a negative flame
green in final disgrace & dismissal
green where the gravedigger shoulders his spade
green like the walls of Verlaine's Belgium prison
green woods, wolf & poet meeting on equal foot
green like embroidery on old smoking-jackets
covered with needlepoint dragons & soot
green like a murderer gone to the guillotine
green like the lawns of this land breaking through
our windows in herbicide frenzy to taunt us
green like the tarnish on brass tiger shoes
green the result of choice or of chance
green when the famished, the hopeful despair
green that we have no hope of outguessing
green for which always we must be prepared
poem by Jay Mandeville
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nature-Day Ending -Izeli
Jacaranda in full bloom,
points it's branches to the setting sun.
Gentle breeze rains blossoms from on high
to carpet the earth with their purple dye.
Heavy flapping of the cawing gulls
swallows in pairs dance in a race
Bright green light green shadows lengthening
White disk with a shimmering face.
Dark green treetops turning yellow green
Olive lit hillside now to be seen
Tiny butterflies fluttering bye
Dust like dots of the tiny fly
Here I sit and drink in the life
of nature and creatures
as the day is ending
I marvel and wonder at the life I see,
in a perfect rhythm of eternal blending.
poem by Mary Mc Creath
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My Plant is in a Cage
Some of my friends say,
I have green fingers.
I just plant the seed and pray,
and watch, as time lingers.
Grow they do, green and lush
Don't tell no one hush, hush.
cause in Holland we grow 'Mary Jane'
In U.S.A. and Canada it's not quit the same.
The green sage is all the rage,
So I put my green plant in a cage
Locked up tight, 'Motion Detector' on! .
In the morning, no plant will be gone!
poem by David Darbyshire
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The Green Dot
A green dot was wandering one day,
Where is its spot, where it can lay! ,
It delayed its arrival,
And all the green is now gone,
The green dot is wandering searching,
Goofing the streets under rain and thunder,
It moves fast and slow, gradual run,
From the shore, to the bays,
When it was deceived by the beauty of trees,
What beauty can it see, but she wasn’t comfee,
Because it wasn’t that green,
What green it could be?
What green does it belong?
It don’t know, but the search seemed to be long,
Oh! Lil green dot, lil green dot,
What is this mess all about?
The lil green dot missed its way,
And now it dun no where to stay,
Where are the other green, where is its stain?
Forever the search, Forever it will feel the pain,
To be away from the other green dots.
poem by Mustafa Ghuneim
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When The Green Gits Back In The Trees
In spring, when the green gits back in the trees,
And the sun comes out and stays,
And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze,
And you think of yer barefoot days;
When you ort to work and you want to not,
And you and yer wife agrees
It's time to spade up the garden lot,
When the green gits back in the trees--
Well! work is the least o' _my_ idees
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!
When the green gits back in the trees, and bees
Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin,
In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please
Old gait they bum roun' in;
When the groun's all bald where the hay-rick stood,
And the crick 's riz, and the breeze
Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood,
And the green gits back in the trees,--
I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these,
The time when the green gits back in the trees!
When the whole tail-feathers o' wintertime
Is all pulled out and gone!
And the sap it thaws and begins to climb,
And the sweat it starts out on
A feller's forred, a-gittin' down
At the old spring on his knees--
I kind o' like jes' a-loaferin' roun'
When the green gits back in the trees--
Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I--durn--please--
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Green Things Growing
O the green things growing, the green things growing,
The faint sweet smell of the green things growing!
I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.
O the fluttering and the pattering of those green things growing!
How they talk each to each, when none of us are knowing;
In the wonderful white of the weird moonlight
Or the dim dreamy dawn when the cocks are crowing.
I love, I love them so - my green things growing!
And I think that they love me, without false showing;
For by many a tender touch, they comfort me so much,
With the soft mute comfort of green things growing.
And in the rich store of their blossoms glowing
Ten for one I take they're on me bestowing:
Oh, I should like to see, if God's will it may be,
Many, many a summer of my green things growing!
But if I must be gathered for the angel's sowing,
Sleep out of sight awhile, like the green things growing,
Though dust to dust return, I think I'll scarcely mourn,
If I may change into green things growing.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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A pure white poem and empty shops
I asked a dog-walker for the short cut
to the local centre shop.
She told me 'Walk to the village green
then turn right. A skip and a hop.'
'Thank you' I said, unknowingly
that the village green WASN'T green..
Everything was blanketed in a coat of snow,
it was WHITE where the green had been!
I followed the tracks and got to the shop
where crowds were milling about lost.
The bread and eggs they were looking for
could not be bought at any cost.
The shelves were bare, reminded me
of reports I'd seen on the telly.
Thirds World countries, very little food,
youngsters with hunger-swollen bellies.
Ah well, it's pasta for me tonight
and tomorrow again, no doubt.
Those tomatoes in cans will be useful and, I expect,
the tin of beans will eke it out.
poem by Francesca Johnson
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Nobodys Business
What a fool to step into those shoes
Either way you know they win or lose
You know money talks
Your eyes they aint so blue
You love to watch the green-backs walk
You got a five-buck side-pack
Tell me, tell me someone stop this pain
Its your place I was in a rage insane
I wanted your love so bad
But your eyes are never blue
Droolin over green-back poolin
You got a five-buck side-pack
Well I must have been right about something
Yes to make it to here and to tell you something
Cause nobodys business but my own
Nobodys business but my own
Well I must have been mad about something
Cause Im m a d and I spell it for nothing
Cause nobodys business but my own
Nobodys business but my own
What a fool to step into those shoes
Either way you know they[you? ] win or lose
You know money talks
Your eyes so paralysed
Dont you realise
For love and hate its just too late
Nobodys business but my own
Nobodys business but my own
Nobodys business but my own
Nobodys business but my own
Nobodys business but my own
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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